


From Cabeswater, With Love

by lazarusthefirst



Series: Five dumb peas in a dumb pod [7]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Gift Giving, Kisses, M/M, Presents, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 18:50:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5509115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazarusthefirst/pseuds/lazarusthefirst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, traditional Secret Santa rules aside, Adam was not aware that everyone was planning on getting him a gift anyways and passing it off as “no big deal” or “I bought it before we decided on Secret Santa” or “What the fuck Parrish I woke up with it in my hand chill out”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Cabeswater, With Love

**Author's Note:**

> Or "Kris Kringle" or whatever y'all call it
> 
> Happy holidays <3

Christmas was the one time of year where Adam permitted Gansey to have carte blanch to get him whatever he wanted and Adam couldn’t complain, but what with some of his friends having limited budgets and some of them not physically able to go into a store by themselves or possess money, Gansey decided on Secret Santa with a not-so-secret addendum that any other presents could be bought at the giver’s discretion, if they so chose. This was a vague P.S., thrown out airily by Gansey when he thought no one was paying attention.

So, traditional Secret Santa rules aside, Adam was not aware that everyone was planning on getting him a gift anyways and passing it off as “no big deal” or “I bought it before we decided on Secret Santa” or “What the fuck Parrish I woke up with it in my hand chill out”.

Gansey wrote all of their names on evenly-cut pieces of paper in very nice handwriting and then wanted to have them handed out by an impartial judge, possibly Matthew or Adam’s landlady. Ronan rolled his eyes and grabbed the slips away from him and said he was just going to hand them out himself, but it was actually Chainsaw who had the final say by crash landing on to the table and scattering the names to the four corners of Monmouth. ‘She was sick of your shit,’ Ronan explained to Gansey over the bird’s head-splitting caws.

Adam found one of the scraps of paper halfway underneath the threshold, bearing the most elegantly-written “Blue” he’d ever seen. Ronan pulled Gansey’s name off the top of the fridge (the last one, left by everyone because no one could reach it). Gansey plucked a piece marked “Noah” out of Noah’s own hair, who was too busy reaching for his own marked “Adam” underneath the table. Blue stubbed her toe reaching for the last piece and foresaw Ronan’s name along with the spike of pain. Chainsaw shrieked one last time before Ronan shushed her.

‘Thank you, bird mom,’ Blue said.

‘She gets shit done,’ Ronan replied.

*

Even though he knew everyone would accuse him of copping out, Ronan goes into his dreams to find something for Gansey. What was the point of pitting one trust fund against another, especially when Gansey only likes “sentimental, thoughtful” gifts, like whatever the fuck Noah or Adam or Blue would come up with for him. Buying for Gansey was like buying for a dog. He wouldn’t appreciate anything high tech or expensive, but present him with a terrycloth rag doll you made yourself and he’s running around wagging his tail like you gave him the world and didn’t ask for the change.

The day before Gansey was due to go home for the holidays, Ronan placed a small wrapped box carefully on Gansey’s desk. There was even a bow. Matthew had wrapped it for him.

‘Merry Christmas, loser.’

Gansey looked up from the wormy old text he was studying and smiled, pushing his glasses up on his nose. ‘Off the top of your head?’ he asked lightly.

Ronan shrugged. ‘I wasn’t going to get you a sweater, was I?’

Gansey handled the box carefully, but Ronan knew he was excited. A gift from Cabeswater was exactly the sort of thing to put a sparkle in his friend’s eye.

Inside the box was an ivory-coloured snow globe, the glass sitting on a heavy base with delicate raised carvings of flowers and trees. There was also a raven on one side, and a stag on the other, all carved out of the same mysterious white stone. The snowflakes inside shifted as Gansey took it out, temporarily obscuring the contents.

‘Incredible,’ Gansey murmured, eyes pouring over it, hands holding it up to the light. ‘Quartz? Or is it ivory?’

Ronan shrugged again. ‘I didn’t stop to get the specs, Gansey.’

‘Mystery material,’ Gansey said, reverently. Then his eyes moved to the contents of the globe. ‘Oh, Ronan.’

Inside was a tiny model of Henrietta, with all of its fields, forests, rivers, and houses. Its scope defied logic and deceived the eye; upon focusing on one area, it appeared to zoom and magnify, temporarily dominating inside the globe until your eyes shifted elsewhere. Blinking or looking away reduced the town to its tiny dimensions once again. Some snowflakes still fell gently inside, but instead of settling at the bottom of the glass they seemed to shrink and float down into the town itself. It was just short of headache inducing, but Ronan had stared at it so much he was used to it now, and found the overall effect rather entrancing. From the way Gansey was practically in tears, he did too.

‘Ronan,’ he whispered. ‘You are something else entirely. Are those _people?_ Are they _moving_?’

Ronan snorted. ‘Probably. Dream shit can take on a life of its own. You might have noticed the bird tearing up the curtains in my room.’

’It’s just … incredible,’ Gansey murmured, nose practically pressed to the glass. Then he turned and gave Ronan that wide-eyed, desperately honest smile that cut him to his core like a knife. ‘ _Thank you_ , Ronan.’

He shrugged, uncomfortable under the scrutiny but at the same time basking in Gansey’s unreserved awe and gratitude. ‘Hey. From Cabeswater with love, man. Glad you like it.’

*

Gansey, naturally, agonised for a full week about what to get for Noah before reverting back to the extravagance of his pre-Adam/Blue days and buying Noah his own star. They found it through a telescope at the University’s astronomy lab; Gansey’s father knew the lecturer and he let them have some time alone so they could let their semi-corporeal ghost friend freak out when he found his own personal Noah Czerny burning billions of miles away.

‘See?’ he asked, as Noah gazed open-mouthed into the telescope. ‘And I have the coordinates here, so you’ll always know where to find it.’ No one needed to say that Noah was worried about disappearing permanently, or that he was just as scared of hanging around long after his friends were gone. ‘Stars always burn bright no matter where you are, and even if you can’t see them. They’re always there.’

Gansey also let Noah drive the Pig for a day, and since neither the star nor the temporary loan of his car keys was really a proper gift, he got Ronan to dream him up a skateboard fridge magnet with little wheels that could be driven over the surface. Ronan coated the wheels in ink so they left real tire tracks over the pink post-it note that said “GET MILK & TP”. Noah was delighted, because he didn’t need milk or toilet paper anyway.

Even though the rules of Secret Santa state that as the giver is not receiving anything directly from the givee (a rule added hastily only after Gansey discerned that no two people received each other), there was no price limit. Even so, Gansey was nervous about buying something for Adam, especially since Noah was already planning something. The last thing he wanted to do was upstage their little ghost, and Adam was already getting wise to Gansey.

So instead he made him a mixtape full of songs he knows Adam would like listening to but will also make him feel better about himself as a person and generally lift his mood. He also bought him a warm winter scarf, gloves, and hat, which he said “You needed anyways, you think I want you to get another cold and sneeze all over me and ruin _my_ winter break?” Adam grudgingly accepted the beautiful hand-knitted garments, and Gansey looked so happy that he didn’t even complain. He _would_ have complained about the beautiful percolator and six months worth of coffee that Gansey also bought for him because “I bought it ages ago for your birthday and forgot to give it to you sorryyyyyyy”, but didn't, only because Gansey ran out of the door very fast almost immediately. Adam reasoned that the coffee wasn’t something he would be adding to his daily expenditure, so there was no harm in having the occasional cup. It would only go to waste otherwise.

*

Much as he liked Blue, Adam really wished he hadn’t gotten her for Secret Santa. Buying for girls was _hard_ , particular when you had next to no flex cash. He admired some attractive blue knitting wool in a store and wondered if Blue knew how to knit, before smacking himself on the forehead and purchasing two blue skeins, one black, and two knitting needles. It took a full ten days - thank God he’d started early - and a lot of staying up late straining his eyes to see the hoops, and one very arduous training session from Noah, but Adam eventually managed to create a long sapphire blue scarf, complete with a black raven on each end. They were more like wobbly chickens, but it was homemade and the wool was organically sourced from real sheep (or so the label claimed), and he hoped Blue would get the message.

She unwrapped it in front of him, naturally. It wound three times around her neck; she inhaled deeply and whispered ‘Holy shit, I love it.’

‘You don’t think they look like chickens?’

Blue threw her arms around Adam and hugged him for the longest time, then invited him to Christmas Day dinner.

*

With his Christmas Day plans sorted, Adam entered the holiday season in a better mood than usual. There was still, however, the Christmas Eve that he must suffer through alone. He’d almost expected a call from his mother, even though she couldn’t possibly have his new cell phone number. There wasn’t even a Christmas card. Gansey had placed no limits on that matter, and so Adam’s little shelf was decorated with bright coloured cards; one from Gansey, one from The Gansey’s (TM), one from Blue’s family, and a hand-made card from Noah. He looked at them every night before he went to bed.

He finished up his shift at 5pm and went home, exhausted, anticipating the dinner he would have the next day. This evening’s fare would be tea and rice. Not very exciting, but he was used to it. If he rummaged, he could probably find a candy bar stashed somewhere by Gansey.

Ronan was attending dinner followed by midnight mass with his brothers. It was the most time he’d spent with Declan consecutively all year, and it was on the condition that Declan was not allowed to interfere with Ronan and Matthew’s Christmas Day, which involved visiting Aurora and the Barns.

Blue was involved in a strictly women-only tradition unique to the women of 300 Fox Way. Blue had shrugged and made it sound rather mysterious and magical, but Adam had a feeling it involved more vodka than voodoo - or whatever. And Noah was doing whatever Noah did when he wasn’t corporeal. Adam had an idea that the holidays made him sad and withdrawn. He could understand that. He felt worse for Noah, because at least Adam’s family didn’t want him around. They didn’t talk about it, but it must have been hard for Noah to know that his family wanted nothing more, but he couldn’t give it to them.

So Adam hung around his room and tried not to be depressed. He did some recreational reading - a book Blue had leant him that was like _Lord of the Flies_ , but with women. It more enjoyable than the Golding version, full of Blue-like girls and other girls who were not so like Blue but were pretty cool anyways, and Adam was about 100 pages deep when there was a knock on his door.

He rolled off the bed easily, because a knock like that meant there could only be a Lynch on the other side. Declan he could handle, and Ronan ... well. Adam could only hope with him.

It was Ronan. He was still in his suit from church downstairs - Adam hadn’t even heard the bells - but his tie was loosened and he was carrying a bottle.

Ronan didn’t speak, but he looked rather frayed. He held out the bottle like a gift.

‘Aren’t you going to say “Merry Christmas”?’ Adam asked dryly, taking the bottle, which felt expensive and looked undrinkable, knowing Ronan’s preference for anything that burned real bad.

‘Merry fucking Christmas,’ said Ronan. ‘Lets go out.’

Adam sat in the passenger seat of the BMW, the bottle in his lap. He wondered how much Ronan planned on drinking, and how they would be getting back from wherever they were going. He didn’t want to irritate Ronan by warning him not to drink and drive, but there was something about Ronan tonight that gave him pause. He’d expected him to be wound up and angry after so much exposure to his brother, but his hand was loose on the steering wheel, the other resting on the gear stick. He looked as calm as Henrietta felt. The streets emptied as they followed the now familiar road out to the Barns, and Adam felt something inside him uncoil too. The loneliness that had settled deep inside of him when Gansey had left had disappeared; with Ronan he felt settled, and sure. Maybe not of the situation, but of himself.

It was cold, but Adam’s coat was warm, and he was wearing the scarf and hat Gansey had gotten him. Ronan didn’t seem to notice the cold. The land around them was wooded and Ronan drove slowly over the uneven ground, but then the skyline cleared and Adam could see the whole wide expanse of dark sky, lit up with millions of stars. It was like they had all turned out just for Christmas Eve.

Ronan parked, and they took turns sipping out of the bottle for a while. They both needed to wind down a little, and the whiskey loosened their limbs and warmed their blood (even if it did burn like fire). Adam could see the dim lights of the Barns just behind the trees on the other side; Ronan must have already woken the house in preparation for the next day.

‘I couldn’t think of anything to give you,’ Ronan said.

Adam frowned as he drank. ’What?’ he asked, coughing slightly. He held out the bottle but Ronan didn’t take it. He was staring straight ahead, at the stars. Adam capped the bottle, fingers slipping a little.

‘I dreamt up a hundred stupid things,’ he went on. ‘But you don’t like what everyone else likes. You’re not like a normal fucking person, Adam. You’ve got a fucking forest’s consciousness inside you. You like …’ he gestured irritably, but Adam knew he wasn’t really mad.

‘I like this,’ he said softly. He nodded up to the sky, laid out like a map of the entire universe. His eyes struggled to cope with the sheer expanse of it all. ‘You couldn’t dream this up for me, Ronan.’ He didn’t bother to mention that Ronan wasn’t his Secret Santa, as that was clearly considered redundant at this point by everyone.

Ronan looked at him, and there was something hopeful and half-wild in his eyes that startled Adam. They stared at each other as Adam tried to figure out what was up, and as they did so his heart started to flutter, lifting high in his chest when Ronan didn’t look away. His face went hot and his feet went cold.

‘I need some air,’ Ronan muttered, suddenly bolting from the car. Adam blinked twice before scrambling out after him, leaving the bottle to roll on the seat. Ronan was leaning against the hood of the BMW, like he didn’t know whether he wanted to look at Adam or not. Adam needed to look at him, though. He needed to look just one more time, to be really sure.

‘Ronan,’ he said softly. Ronan’s eyes brushed the grass, the stars, anywhere but Adam. The evasiveness was so unlike Ronan it was positively unnerving, but Adam stood his ground.

‘Lynch, fucking look at me,’ he demanded. Ronan dragged his gaze up like he’d always intended to, and was shameless enough to look aggrieved.

‘What, Parrish?’ he said, but there was no fight in his voice. His cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, and a shiver ran across his body.

Adam stepped in. His hand came up and seized Ronan’s tie, but stalled there. His hand was against Ronan’s chest; it was warm, and he could feel his heart beating. Ronan was so frantically alive that it gave him pause. It felt like approaching a wild animal.

Ronan stepped closer, and Adam’s body automatically leaned in to him. They regarded each other, heads tilted, and Adam wondered what Ronan was thinking. Maybe he was wondering if he should kiss him. Adam was wondering that too. What would a kiss mean?

Ronan’s tie was still in Adam’s hand, and what he saw in Ronan’s eyes was as hard to get his head around as millions of stars in the sky. This is what it feels like, Adam thought distantly, as Ronan’s arms gently encircled him, to be wanted by someone who could have the entire world and take what he wanted from it. This is what it feels like to really _want_ someone. How strange, that he’d thought he’d known what that felt like before this moment.

He pulled Ronan down towards him by his tie. But the moment their lips touched, suddenly that contact was not enough. Adam’s blood burned and roared in his ears and he raised his hands to cup Ronan’s face, his skin cold beneath his hands. Ronan shivered and tightened his arms, deepening the kiss until Adam was gasping for air. He broke away just enough for a wild breath - Ronan’s pupil’s were huge, his lips red and his eyes hungry, and Adam shivered now too. The intensity of the moment crashed down on his head as his heart tugged him back in to Ronan’s arms

Adam hadn’t had many memorable Christmas Eves. At least, not ones he enjoyed remembering. But that night Ronan took him into his home and pulled him down on to his bed and touched him until Adam forgot every other night but this one. His hands were soft and insistent and he told Adam things that sounded like they'd been spun out of pure wish and desire. Out of dreams. He spent the night sleeping in Ronan's arms, and he felt loved. 

*

What do you get the boy who has everything, and cares for none of it except his stupid bird? Blue had fumed for two days about how Ronan could just stride into his dreams and take _whatever_ , before deciding that he had absolutely no imagination and wouldn’t appreciate a store-bought gift anyways. With some help from Orla and Calla, she made Ronan a grey Paddy cap and a tiny matching one for Chainsaw with a little leather strap that could loop under her beak to make sure it stayed on while she was airborne. Blue wanted to test this before signing off on it, but she couldn’t catch any of the pigeons in her back garden. Gansey suggested putting it on Chainsaw while Ronan was at church, but Blue thought Chainsaw might snitch. She hadn’t heard her talk _yet,_ but she’d come out of Ronan Lynch’s head so anything was possible.

Ronan, to Blue’s shock, loved the hats intensely.

‘My dad used to have one of these,’ he said, holding it with surprising reverence. ‘It’s not at the Barns; he must have lost it somewhere. I could never dream it up quite right … or I didn’t want to.’ He shrugged, putting it on. ‘Fits and all. Thanks, Sargent.’

Blue struggled not to smile. ‘Yeah, it was hard to get the measurements. I used a balloon for reference.’

Chainsaw wasn’t sure what to do with her own hat, but once she saw Ronan wearing his she permitted a fitting. With a small adjustment to the strap, she was set.

‘Magnificent,’ declared Gansey.

‘She looks pretty cool,’ agreed Adam, grinning.

Ronan held out his hand for Chainsaw, who hopped on to it with a screech. ‘We match,’ he declared, looking about as close to legitimately pleased as Ronan got. Blue felt all warm and fuzzy inside for a weird, weird moment. The phrase _bird brain_ kept floating around her head and she had to walk away for a bit.

Without consulting with Gansey or any of them, Blue had started planning a gift for Adam weeks in advance. It was something Maura had mentioned once over a particularly buttery dinner, about how Adam worked so closely with Cabeswater’s magic without any real protection from anything that might seek to harm it.

‘What would try to harm Cabeswater?’ Blue asked, rolling a Brussel sprout around on her plate.

‘Not harm exactly,’ Maura said. ‘More like interfere. We don’t know what effect that could have on Adam.’

‘Yeah, and Gansey can’t be the only weirdo in the world who’s smart enough to stumble across it in a helicopter,’ Calla reasoned. ‘Adam is strong, but he’s in a uniquely vulnerable position. Cabeswater will do whatever it has to do to protect itself, but we don’t know what that means for its vessel.’

After a month of research, another week of brainstorming, and a whole lot of saved up wages, Blue - with the help of Maura, Calla, virtually every psychic at 300 Fox Way and a few friends of friends of we-met-at-Taco-Bell-one-time friends - created a beautiful silver ring, so heavily layered with blessing and protections that it practically sang. Blue had it sent from an old friend of Calla’s in Salem who specialised in magical jewellery, and then held it in her cupped hands as they piled on the magic at one of Cabeswater's borders. Then Blue used a donation from the Richard Campbell Gansey III trust fund - guiltlessly accepted, because it was for Adam and she’d already done all of the heavy lifting and she kind of wanted to include Gansey anyways - to engrave a line from a poem Persephone particularly liked.

 _“We love the things we love for what they are_ ,” Adam read. He slipped the ring on to his middle finger, where it sat snugly, humming. Blue presented it to him on Christmas morning, before dinner. Adam seemed more peaceful this morning than she’d seen him since Gansey had left, but she didn’t ask why. It was enough to see the smile on his face.

‘I hope you never need it,’ Blue said sincerely. ‘But at least it looks good.’

‘We all helped,’ Orla pointed out.

‘Obviously,’ Blue said.

Adam beamed at her then, catching her completely off guard and completely banishing any ill feelings she’d ever felt towards anyone ever. It couldn’t just be the ring, she thought, slightly dazed. Did he win the lottery? Get early admission? Did Gansey come back from Boston?

It was only when Adam unwound his scarf that Blue saw the light bruising on his neck. It took all the strength she had in her not to ask, but she did send a very subtle snapchat of Adam’s neck to Gansey, and immediately had to leave the room to take his call.

‘Was that Gansey?’ Adam asked, as she sat back down ten minutes later.

‘She’s blushing, of course it was,’ Maura said dryly, clattering plates around.

‘Mom oh my god don’t you have something to clean,’ Blue said, sitting down hard on her seat and stuffing sprouts into her mouth.

Blue’s family got progressively louder as the evening wore on. They played a rowdy drinking game to _“It’s a Wonderful Life”_ and then Blue and Adam made Irish coffees - heavy on the Irish - and took a blanket out into the garden.

‘You gonna call Gansey?’ Adam asked.

Blue shrugged but only blushed a little. ‘Probably.’ She snuck a glance at him. ‘You gonna call Ronan?’

Adam didn’t blush; he grinned widely, like he couldn’t help it. ‘Probably,’ he said, sipping his hot chocolate. ‘If he takes my call.’

Blue leaned on his shoulder, thinking that they might finally have found a way to get Ronan to answer his phone. It was a Christmas miracle.

*

Adam’s actual Secret Santa gift turned up on his bed on Boxing day. He didn’t get to thank Noah until after the holidays when Gansey came back, because apparently he’d been shy about Adam’s reaction. He had, through means known only to Noah (and possibly Ronan, who wasn’t telling), gathered a selection of smooth, beautiful stones and ever-blooming flowers from Cabeswater, and put them in a small wicker basket of moss and earth. The presentation alone was staggering, but what Adam noticed was that the closer he was to the stones and the flowers, the brighter and more shiny they seemed. Noah had left them in a basket under Gansey’s bed for two weeks to make sure the magic didn’t wear off once they’d been removed from Cabeswater, but as Ronan said, they should have known that they could never be less magical around Adam of all people.

Adam cleared everything off his tiny desk and let the basket sit there by itself. It drew light from all corners of his dark little bedroom, and hummed magical songs to him as he came up the stairs in the evenings. The colours of the stone and flowers changed depending on his mood, but always glowed with a special light no matter how he was feeling, to remind him in his darkest times that there were brighter still to come.

Noah had nothing to be worried about. When he finally reappeared, Adam pulled him intoa hug and didn’t let go for four whole minutes. None of them had known that ghosts could cry.

‘ _Thank you_ ,’ Adam whispered in his ear, as Noah sniffed quietly.

‘I only gave you what you could have taken yourself,’ he said, as they drew back. Adam fixed him with a stern gaze, a hint of a smile playing around his lips.

‘Noah,’ he said. ‘Only you could find a wicker basket in 2015. There was glitter in the moss too, I saw.’

Noah shrugged. ‘I wanted to make sure you knew it was from me.’

The best part about Secret Santa, Gansey thought to himself as he watched Adam hug Noah again, was that all of his friends were so kind anyways that Adam hadn’t even realised they’d broken the rules for him. They were definitely doing this again next year.

**Author's Note:**

> The book Adam's reading is Beauty Queens by Libba Bray and is A++++
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://thetrojeans.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/lazarusthefirst/)


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